Livin' Well
by Kala-Warrior18
Summary: People want to live for the day, some want to see tomorrow, and a few…to live for all eternity. Whether their living on the sidelines or from another person's neck or at an end of a gun…their living it well. Livin' Well, a re-written form of "The Scars on Our Backs".
1. Warning

**Livin' Well by Kala-Warrior18**

**Severe Warning to ALL Viewers: The story "Livin' Well" contents contains sexuality, profanity, reference to religion, and gruesome amounts of violence and death.**

**"The Scars on Our Backs," along with other future Kala-Warrior18 stories, follows the Laurell K. Hamilton "Anita Blake series," starting with the first novel "Guilty Pleasures."**

**"Livin' Well" follows the storyline "Guilty Pleasures" (Laurell K. Hamilton) but viewers must take great consideration that parts or all of the story will be altered to follow Kala-Warrior18's creative writing skills or ideas. However, the alteration does not affect the original "Guilty Pleasures" novel in any way or form; "Livin' Well" is just an inspiration of Laurell K. Hamilton's literature work.**

**Disclaimer: Kala-Warrior18 does not own in any way the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series, ownership and creator of such literature–Laurell K. Hamilton.**

**Property: Kala-Warrior18 has ownership of fiction characters in "Livin' Well" are Michelle Chapters and Nicole Blackwoods and future OC characters.**

**Enjoy the story.**


	2. Livin' Well

**Ladies and Gentleman, I give you an Anita Blake series fanfic! Of course this is a re-write from "The Scars on Our Backs"; it was once in first-person but it was so sloppy that it needed to be changed.**

**Disclaimer: Kala-Warrior18 does not own in any way the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series, ownership and creator of such literature–Laurell K. Hamilton.**

**Property: Kala-Warrior18 has ownership of fiction characters in "Livin' Well" are Michelle Chapters and Nicole Blackwoods and future OC characters.**

**Enjoy the story.**

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><p>Chapter 1: Livin' Well<p>

The hot humid air would cause anyone to run to the AC; except one named Michelle Chapters, she found it quite pleasant. However, the air hardly did any justice to the rotting corpse lying on the sidewalk; or at least what was left of a corpse since most of the organs where gone, probably eaten.

"His name was Daniel Betters," Michelle's partner, Nicole, came to stand beside her with a vanilla folder opened in her hands; "He was a lycanthrope rat."

"_Was a lycanthrope rat_" didn't sound right to Michelle; he still is a lycanthrope rat…just a dead one. Eh, maybe she was being picky because of her being an officer for the Supernatural Justice Distribute (SJD). Mostly she was a pencil-pusher at "Livin' Well, Inc.," an industry of two legal officers. Her partner was Nicole Blackwoods or Nick as she preferred.

Sometimes, the situation was quite comical; listing the facts that a supernatural incorporation is called "Livin' Well, Inc.," only two women worked there and referred themselves as the male names "Mitch" and "Nick", or how "Blackwoods" fit in the working-line of dealing with the dark supernatural world. The last name Chapters, not so much.

"Age 22, 5'7", Hispanic, and worked at Guilty Pleasures. He arrived at the establishment at 6p.m. and left at 1a.m., he must have died sometime after that. Three o'clock at the most judging by the rigor mortis." Nicole said, passing Michelle the files of the said dead man.

"Was anyone with him at the time of the murder?" Michelle asked, blocking the sight of Daniel's bloody motionless body with the folder of his medical records. His papers said he was in good shape…once.

Nick (Nicole) sighed, "None that has been reported. All we have is Mrs. Gavins, an elderly of 65, who was just walking her poodle this morning when it ran off its leash, she then she found it by Daniels' body."

Michelle sighed too. Great, a murder with no witnesses meant a lot of paperwork. "Then we need a search warrant to investigate Guilty Pleasures and ask some of its employees if Mr. Betters had any odd contacts or behaviors."

"I already got a guy working on it."

Michelle raised an eyebrow at her skeptically, "You got one of them to do that? Willingly?" indicating with her head to the policeman behind them, who were keeping unwanted reporters or spectators from crossing the restriction tape.

"Yeah," she smirked almost in pride.

Well, that was a first. It wasn't that Livin' Well defended the supernatural that usually ticked people off, especially the police, it was more the men had too much of the balls to lend-a-hand to a woman. Yes the typical male vs. female world problem. Shouldn't that stage of immaturity disappeared at age five?

Michelle looked at Daniel's lifeless features: his face still held signs of youth but stronger it seemed, deep brown unfocused eyes almost rolled back into his head, short-cut black hair-he even had a goatee, and a tanned swimmer's build. He would have been cute if she ever met him alive.

Of course, one look at Nick and he would have never known Michelle existed.

Nicole was model pretty, capturing men with her beauty like flies to honey. At age 26, Nick's raven black hair was styled in short layers with highlighted blonde bangs sweeping to the sides, followed by a face of high-cheeked bones, the greenest aqua colored eyes and plump lips.; and though the career of an officer required some muscle, Nick had small feminine curves even when standing at a strong 5'5" in 1 inch heeled boots. She wore a maroon flared-collar button shirt, leaving a few undone to show the gold cross necklace and a small amount of tan cleavage, and a pair black-washed skinny jeans tucked into the black combat boots. She was like a fly to honey with her personality: funny, out-going, and had a great smile.

"_No wonder the guy fell for her." _Michelle thought annoyed, slightly envious.

Michelle then analyzed herself self-consciously: age 21, chubby, 5 feet tall, unruly curled brown hair reaching to her shoulders, and brown eyes. There's been a mishap or two about people assuming her age poorly, the worse guess was 16. Luckily she had the sense to not dress like one, along that her figure was a full C-cup bra and having some hips. Her style was average: a blue V-necked t-shirt, silver cross, blue pants, and white sneakers. She was nice and smart, just the boring professor smart, and incredibly shy.

They carried their weapons in hip or arm holsters out in the open for public eyes. There seemed no point in concealing them with a jacket because people expected an officer to have one. Nick pointed out it was because jackets were a hassle in hot weather and weapon check-out stations. Michelle laughed when she said that.

Michelle looked down at the 9mm Firestar hanging in her belt holster. Honestly, she thought it meant they could build a better trust with a client. Why give them the dying unanswered question if a weapon was on them, it just makes them scared for their life when the client needed help; if they had nothing to hide then their client didn't either. However, others didn't see it that way; they saw it as being mean, tough, and dangerous. So in order to not to cause a public disturbance, they had to wear visible police badges on certain crimes investigations. Nick thought that was a waste too, their guns said "we meant business"; Michelle almost agree with her, almost.

"You know he resembles somebody right?" Nick questioned bringing Michelle out of her daze.

"Yep." She replied after looking at Daniel, again.

Daniel looked similar to Rafael, another Hispanic and lycanthrope rat but royalty. Rafeal was the Rat King of St. Louis and one of their many clients. He was a nice guy which was all Michelle could say about him, he really didn't talk much about his "rat life" or his followers, also known as the "Dark Crown Clan"; other than that, he has a branded crown on his forearm.

"Do you want to wait to call him tonight?" Michelle asked.

Nicole shook her head. "Nah, like a band-aid you need to get it over with quickly."

"Such a poet." Michelle quipped.

Nick was about to respond when an officer came running over.

"Ma'am, here's that warrant you asked for." He handed over the slip of paper. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and looked like he was in his early 20s, he must be a rookie. Yeah, Michelle was young but she been doing this for 3 years, experience makes a difference.

Nick took it and smiled genuinely, such a talented actress. "Thanks."

The officer had a boyish smile and tipped his hat slightly, "No problem."

"Ronald!" They all looked at an angry and over-weight officer, who must be "Ronald's" sergeant. "Get over here! We got another call."

Ronald looked at the women apologetically before running to a squad car and driving off with the others in tow.

"Where's the call from?" Nick asked after she stopped one of the officers before he could leave.

The guy hesitated but saw the badge safety-pinned to her shirt then his gaze lingered at her shirt a fraction more before he looked at Nick's face, again. "Somebody called in that they found a body between 21st and Liberty Street." The officer said looking over his shoulder as another cop called his name and left.

"That's two miles from the Blood District. We better go or it'll be crowded with tourist." Michelle said.

They both walked to Nick's truck, a 2008 red Chevrolet Silverado with the logo of "Livin Well, Inc" in white on the doors. No one could miss it even in a toy store parking lot on Christmas Eve.

"Why do people find dead bodies so fascinating?" Nick asked, getting into the driver's seat.

"_Is she talking about the actually dead body, zombies, or vampires?" _Michelle thought absently but just shrugged her shoulders and closed the passenger side door.

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><p><strong>There done. And may I say I'm impressed with myself! Wow, egotistical-maniac, right? <strong>**Anyways, hope to hear your reviews and I look forward to the next chapter to share with you guys. :)**


	3. Seeing Fang-erelle

**CHAPTER 2!**

**Disclaimer: Kala-Warrior18 does not own in any way the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series, ownership and creator of such literature–Laurell K. Hamilton.**

**Property: Kala-Warrior18 has ownership of fiction characters in "Livin' Well" are Michelle Chapters and Nicole Blackwoods and future OC characters.**

**Enjoy the story.**

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><p>Chapter 2: Seeing Fang-erelle<p>

There was a crowd. Nicole cursed and Mitch (Michelle) turned to look at her, a lope-sided smile on her face. The kind of smile saying she was sorry but more amused at Nicole's reaction. Through the windows on Mitch's side of the truck, they saw an all too familiar vehicle parked among the throng of civilians.

"_Great, a family reunion." _Nicole thought dryly.

After parking the car, Nicole and Mitch stepped out onto the scene and immediately being surrounded with reporters all asking the same questions: Does the death of Daniel Betters connect with the body, How do you feel about Animators, Inc and RPIT killing your kind without hesitation, and last, It's been said that Livin' Well, Inc's employees once worked for Animators. Inc, is that true?

Nicole was starting to get pissed-off. Mitch stood closer to her, her body tense and hunched over, probably because she was a bit claustrophobic.

"We have yet to conclude if both murders have any relation. So I ask if everyone would move aside in order for us to analyze the body." Nicole sounded professional but she knew there was some annoyance in it. If she had answered their questions truthfully it would have been, "I don't know, shut the hell up, and mind your own damn business," all in that order. However, Mitch was with her and she was kind of like a therapist or warden for Nicole's anger issues. Nicole was also concerned with getting Mitch some space to breathe. _"That's what friends are for,"_ she guessed.

An officer held the tape up for them to pass under. It was like passing an invisible barrier because everyone was staring at them, most of the conversations stopped after seeing them. Disgust, anger, and some shocked looks were given when they walked by. It was obvious no one was going to volunteer to escort them to the body; then again, someone could look for the biggest crowd, BINGO. Nicole was in the lead and Mitch followed.

Four people stood in front of the corpse talking, two "blues" (police/officers), one tall guy in a brown trench coat which in Nicole's opinion was a bad impression of Sherlock Homes, and one woman about 5'3" with wavy black hair that reached her shoulder blades.

"Long time, no see." Nicole said smiling, standing a few paces away from the group.

The group turned their heads towards the women. The man nodded his hello before carrying on his conversation with the blues and the woman gave us a small smile in recognition; she had brown eyes and looked slightly Latina. Anita Blake, "_The Executioner_" of vampires and animator for Animators, Inc., and a good friend of Nicole and Michelle.

"Hey," Anita said coming over and shook hands with each of them. "Yeah, it's been awhile. Haven't heard from you guys." She accused a bit hurtfully.

Although, Anita wasn't really bothered at all of the lack communication from her two friends…in over a month, not even a phone call to say hi.

Though if it was herself, Anita wouldn't have the time either, and would have the sympathetic consideration not to call them at 6 o'clock in the morning when they would be asleep. Whatever the childish grudge was, it disappeared at Nicole's apologetic lop-sided smile and Michelle's guilty side-glance.

"Well, you know, odd hours in the day and stuff. So," Nicole advert the conversation, looking around Anita at the body, it was female and a vampire by the feel of her aura, "what's the story on Fang-erelle?"

Anita turned back to the body, she didn't laugh or smile; Nicole guess she didn't like her joke. Com'on, Cinderella…Fang-erelle; anyways, whoever this woman was obviously did not make to the ball or back to her coffin. It was pure luck that her body was found in a shaded alley and not a pile of ash on the sidewalk, and then this case would really be dead, no pun intended.

"Elizabeth Bowler," Anita answered, "a master vampire of English decent and over 200 years old—"

"Two-hundred and seventy-five," Mitch quickly injected.

Anita looked back at Mitch, shocked maybe or just annoyed at Mitch's age accusations and interruption, before turning back to the dead woman. "Right, anyway, her body was found 30 minutes ago by Alex Davis, we already questioned him and he's useless; and I suppose she died around 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning."

"Just like Daniel." Nicole said.

"Who?" Dolph asked with having the two blues leave to do official police work. Lieutenant Rudolph "Dolph" Storr, 6'8", cropped black hair, built like a wrestler, and a sergeant and is head of RPIT (Regional Preternatural Investigation Team, pronounced occasionally as "Rip-It").

"Daniel Betters, age 22, 5'7", were-rat, and worked at Guilty Pleasures, died around the same time and in the same condition as _Fang-erelle_." Bloody and cracked opened like a hard-boiled egg with hardly any contents inside.

"Elizabeth." Mitch corrected in respect as Nick shrugged off her mistake.

"What's _Guilty Pleasures_?" Dolph asked.

"A women's' strip-club of Weres and vampires."

Dolph's eyebrows scrunched together, they almost looked like a caterpillar, "I see."

Nicole couldn't help but hear the slightest of disgust in his voice. Was it the fact that Daniel was a were-rat or that he use to be a stripper? Why was Nicole even caring what he thought in the first place?

RPIT focused making the supernatural _permanently_ dead, no matter the cause and as long it fit into the legal system. Livin' Well was its rebound, focusing helping the supernatural stay alive..._more than what some already were_. Different teams with high contradicting opinions but they still worked with "creatures of the night"; and of course much to each team's displeasure, they did have to tag-team on cases and put their differences aside.

Anita cleared her throat, trying to disperse the awkwardness, "So we have two bodies: one's a male were-rat stripper and the other is a female master vampire, and they both died at the same time and condition."

"At least, we know it's the same killer." Dolph said. Way to think it through, Serg.

"It could be one person or a group; possible suspects would be ghouls, HAV, or other _creepers_." Mitch inputted while counting off the suspects with her fingers. "HAV's occupation would be usual and most times lead to violence. And judging by Daniel's persona, he and Elizabeth must have had a romantic entanglement which must have caused a hostile jealous rage by one of their admirers: human, were, or vampire."

Mitch then had this unease gaze towards the city as if the culprit was in the crowd or knew where they were. "The ghouls I'm not entirely sure, we're too far out from any cemeteries and ghouls don't attack unless the person is wounded or shows weakness. It could be someone just making it look-like a ghoul attack."

As the other two soaked up the information, Nicole released a low impressed whistle.

"_Way to go, bud." _Nicole thought in amazement. Michelle was smart, very smart. It just came out wrong occasionally, like she should have kept it short-and-simple because most felt pretty dumb afterwards. Nicole didn't mind, she was kind of the same way…more or less.

Dolph and Anita however, were astounded.

"Anything else to add to that?" Dolph asked as if it were possible.

Mitch shrugged her shoulders, "Could be just power-play." she added.

"Like another master trying to boost their rank of sovereignty." Anita finished.

"That's a lot of suspects to interview." Nicole voiced her dismay.

"Anita and I will start at Guilty Pleasures." Dolph said, beginning to walk away.

From the corner of Nicole's eye, she saw Anita's _dis-Pleasure_ of the idea. Get it? "dis-Pleasure," like Guilty Pleasures? Ah, never mind-

Anita told them about her little "experience" the last time she was there, she recommended to never go there. The thing is, Nicole's already been there, twice actually. One more couldn't hurt, right?

"We just so happen to have a warrant for that place, allow us to save you a trip." Nicole offered.

Dolph stopped in his tracks. Nicole couldn't see his facial expression about the idea but knew he was thinking it over. Shortly after, he replied, "Alright but I expect to receive a thoroughly written report within 12 hours." then he walked off to his cop buddies.

Nicole looked at her watch, it was 12:45 a.m. and Mitch had college classes today from 2 to 5 o'clock. Guilty Pleasures didn't open till 7, so they'll just be there at 6:40 for a private interview. Good, this gave her time to call Rafael and at least 3 hours of desperately needed sleep.

Nicole felt a hand on her shoulder, it was Anita. "Hey, thanks for saving me there." She had a smile of gratitude on her face.

Nicole smiled back, "Ah, no problem." She then turned to Mitch, "You ready to go?"

"Ha," she mocked, "Why? You're just going to have me do all the paper work."

"Maybe," Nicole drawled out.

The friends laughed before they began to depart from the crime scene.

After both escaping the multitude of reporters and returning to their separate vehicles, something dawned on Nicole...

"Hey, Anita!" Nicole looked across the street to where Anita stood about to get into her car but turned to Nicole in expectation.

"Say "Hi" to Bert for us." Nicole waved goofily with an even goofier smile on her face. The inside joke between her, Mitch and Anita was really funny.

With a smile full of humor, Anita shook her head in disbelief before entering her car and driving off.

Nicole laughed, entering the driver's seat and started the car.

Mitch smiled at her, "You know Bert's going to flip when he hears that."

Nicole smiled mischievously, "That's the idea. Now, let's get you to those classes." She pretended to sound enthusiastic while hitting onto the paved road.

Mitch closed her eyes and groaned, hitting her head on the headrest of the seat and looking up at the roof of the truck. "I've only had 4 hours of sleep. Can't I just use one of my sick days?" She complained before looking at Nicole with puppy-eyes.

"Nope, you need to earn that Preternatural Bachelor's Degree, missy." Nicole smiled evilly, "Besides, you might learn something new."

"Argh," Mitch bumped her head on the headrest, again.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it, make sure to review. That's how I get paid! <strong>

**Any questions or ideas, feel free to ask. I don't know about chapter titles, yet, or can't think of any.**

**See you guys later in Chapter 3 of Livin' Well: Dead Notes!**


	4. Dead Notes

**Disclaimer: Kala-Warrior18 does not own in any way the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series, ownership and creator of such literature–Laurell K. Hamilton.**

**Property: Kala-Warrior18 has ownership of fiction characters in "Livin' Well" are Michelle Chapters and Nicole Blackwoods and future OC characters.**

**Enjoy the story.**

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><p>Chapter 3: Dead Notes<p>

After years and years of the familiar ringing in a person's ears to alert of time consumption, the class bell is still the worst thing to ever hear. Michelle was 5 minutes early into class and took the top row of the desk stands. Nobody sat by her because that's just how she liked it; she wasn't anti-social, just didn't have a way with words or how to strike-up a conversation.

That and she could not be distracted in this class for her life, literally. This college class of Preternatural Law was of dire importance to her work of supernatural defense. Granted, she could still work because she already had her Law Degree and Associates Degree of Preternatural Law.

She, also, had a Bachelor's Degree in Lycanthrope-logy, Vampirism, Business, and Photography. The photography class was a waste because the scene of the crime is enough to scar someone for life but it was still required.

However the justice system required her to have a Bachelor's in Preternatural Law and Preternatural Biology.; just another 3 hours that was keeping her awake more like it.

The bell rang, again. Michelle desperately wanted to take her gun and shoot it but it was at home by now with Nick, who was probably fast asleep...lucky bitch.

Bringing out the rest of the necessary utensils, Michelle watched in dull fascination as other students came in and took their seats. It was easy for Michelle to establish why some were taking the class.

For instant there was the complication of family matters, who understood the _once human-and-now-monster _situation, refusing to break family ties. To have that much courage, love, and loyalty was **very rare**.

The Goths, Emos...Junkies, whatever rebellious teenagers and immature adults were calling themselves now, were doing it for the darkness and blasphemy or the acceptance few ever got from a normal social life and decided upon a different route.

Others, like sweet thirty-year-old women or men, who either had uncontrollable kids, hard job or none, and high self-consciousness (categories: too fat, skinny, ugly, or old), a person would never thought to have a Were or vampire lover or any other kind of relationship. Michelle was 21 and 2 out of 4 of those self-conscious categories but didn't have any sort of lover or boyfriend.

By narrowing down the subjects' goals and backgrounds, the objective was to be loved and accepted like many—dead or alive.

That wasn't Michelle's case. She was just trying to correct something wrong that happened a long time ago.

About thirty minutes into the class and Michelle's head was about to fall into the pages. The professor, Mr. Hayes, had such a low, life-sucking, undertone voice that could-

From the corner of her eye, she saw a male figure in the door window. Before she could instruct Mr. Hayes of the peeping audience, he had spotted and waved him in.

_"Wow,"_ Michelle thought dreamily as she eye-candied the hunk that not walked, but stride into the room.

Thick brown hair touched his shoulders, black shades hid his eyes (_odd since he was indoors_), and he had a breathtaking sexy, melting libido smile plastered on his face. His attire screamed bad-boy: a faded blue-jean jacket, white T-shirt, jeans that of seen better days, biker boots, and a black backpack slung over one of his shoulders. A bonus was that his clothes hugged his strong and tanned physique.

One thing's for sure, Michelle wasn't the only one ogling him. Other women from the class were whispering to each other and waving flirtatiously at him, and then they'd giggle when he smiled and waved back.

"_Well, there goes my chances_," Michelle thought sourly. She was a bookworm and most of the women in here were porn-stars. What was Michelle even thinking of giving up her hopes? She wasn't even going to try to get this guy's attention; if anything it was just going to be small hello and she was done for the year on social interactions.

Mr. Hayes grabbed the attention of the class again with an abruptly rude cough before walking to the scrumptious man, holding out his years of experience hand of expecting an excuse note from him.

"_Mr. Sexy_", as Michelle self-nicknamed him consciously, handed him a slip of paper and waited as Hayes examined it for any flaws.

The same questions seemed to run through everyone's mind in that classroom or it could have been Michele's over-imagination and excited hormones: Was he going to be in this class, what was his name, or was he just a lost student trying to find a different class?

Hayes cleared his throat, "Class this is Mister Philip Brewer, he'll be joining our class for the rest of the semester. Mr. Brewer, why don't you take a seat next to..."

Another question now: where was he going to sit? Every other stand was full and the only one open was-

"Miss Chapters." Hayes finished, then referring back to today's lesson.

Michelle may have been sleep-deprived earlier but she was wide wake now. More than awake, she was shocked, watching with wide eyes as her new _neighbor_ came up the aisle stairs.

"_Wait, I'm over thinking this. There's like 5 seats in one table, he'll most likely pick a seat the farthest away since he's new and all,_" She reassured herself.

Wrong. Philip had passed the three chairs closest to the aisle and now stood on her right, holding out a greeting hand to her. "Hey, Philip Brewer."

Michelle put her hand in his much larger one, shaking hands lightly but she couldn't help notice he had a firm and warm grip; hands that probably drove a woman to her highest passions with each caress. "Michelle Chapters." She responded meekly.

Philip smiled before putting his bag on the floor and took a seat next to her. This morning for him started out going up shit-creek-without-a-paddle. His alarm clock somehow decided to wake him up at noon instead 9a.m., leaving him to miss breakfast because he had to call at least 10 people to give a ride to class and he was still had been late. He could already foresee the professor, Mr. Hayes, giving him snarky looks and comments for the rest of the semester simply because of today's tardiness. Hopefully the girl next to him would be more sympathetic. She seemed nice…and pretty, especially in much closer contact.

Michelle tried to ignore him as he brought out his class utensils but her eyes kept wandering down to his tempting bent over form, admiring his cute Levi covered butt and his jacket and shirt riding up to show a muscular vertebrae with a few scars. She thought she caught a set of bite marks on his side but swiftly brought her eyes to the front of the class as Philip sat straight, again.

He looked over her shoulder at her book, "What page?" he whispered. For a brief moment, Philip let his nose and eyes catch the sweet smell of peaches and cinnamon coming from her and the smooth movements of her breathing, the swell soft mounds going up and down slowly, before he quickly looked back to his book, again.

"Page 335." She whispered back, never removing her sight from the words on the pages.

"Thanks." He cursed then. Of course he would forget something on his first day.

Michelle raised a thin eyebrow at him, "What?"

"I forgot to bring a pencil, do you mind?" He looked at her sheepishly, which to her was kind of cute.

"Sure. I think I have one in my bag." Michelle turned away from him to her side where her backpack laid on the floor and bent over to reach into one of the smaller pockets.

At seeing Michelle in a tempting position, Philip adjusted himself in his seat as his jeans pressed uncomfortably to his semi-hard cock. Though he could tell she was small in stature and the roundness of her hips and breast meant she was incredibly soft, her body was tight with muscles indicating that she was taking care of herself and wasn't helpless. Her heart-shaped ass was so squeezable that his fingers twitched with restraining from the action. With the alluring fantasy of her completely naked and her shapely legs wrapped around him, Philip was so hard he could drive a nail in.

When she got the pencil out and was about to hand it to Philip, she caught him staring at her torso lustfully.

Unable to react to the flirtatious attention because of embarrassment, she released a soft squeak while blushing madly red, quickly putting the pencil by his book before returning to her own or more like hiding in it.

Eventually, her blush disappeared but she was aware of Philip's occasional side-way glances. By the frown on his face, Philip seemed somewhat guilty. Then again, Michelle could be wrong because he was wearing sunglasses...

Michelle scribbled a small note on her paper and then scooted the opened notebook to him.

Philip was kind of surprised that she was giving him some form of communication after he probably seemed like a pervert; considering his part-time job and resources of addictions, maybe he was.

It said in small cursive writing: You should take off your glasses before Mr. Hayes lectures you to death.

At the note she given him, not only was he amused but slightly at touched that she cared even if it was something simple like sunglasses.

Michelle saw a corner of Philip's mouth quirk before he took off his glasses. She could see why he wore them; the skin under the eyes was slightly darker, meaning he must be just as sleep-deprived as she was. They were brown like hers' but more reflective as other shades shown, such as black, brown, and auburn.

_"Must have had a late night,"_ she thought before a Cheshire cat grin appeared in her thoughts. "_Huh, I wonder how that woman was walking today_."

Michelle barely noticed he wrote back till she felt the notebook being nudged against her forearm. It wasn't the neatest writing but readable: "Thanks. And I don't know, I think I rather be dead than to hear him tomorrow."

She smiled and wrote back, "I think I've stayed more awake with zombies."

He covered his mouth, trying to discourage his laughter from the class.

"_Browning point for me. Oh great, now I sound like Anita."_ She thought, not that Michelle didn't like Anita, she just came off a little defensive and harsh like when she corrected Anita this morning with the direct estimate of Elizabeth Bowler's age.

The air around the two was light and warm, both discreetly motioning with their eyes or nods to their classmates that fallen asleep or were fighting sleep with humorous head-rolls, yet Mr. Hayes unnoticeably continued class with his back turned.

Seeing her bright smile, all of Philip's stress he towed this morning just lifted off his shoulders and he felt proud he was the one responsible to making her happy. Also, being able to talk with a beautiful woman without her knowing his addictions or wanting to jump his bones was all new and welcoming to Philip. And he wanted to keep it that way.

Philip then scribbled another message: Hey, sorry if I made you uncomfortable before. 

Michelle shrugged one of her shoulders in a "no biggie"motion.

Seeing as though she was the shy one, Philip continued the conversation, wanting to see more of her cute, dainty script and know more about her.

Did you, actually, ever meet zombies? It may have been an odd question verses "what are your hobbies" but she gave an odd answer of seeing the undead. He was curious.

Michelle felt the forced movement of her throat like she had swallowed a wad of cotton balls. This was one of the many questions that when answered, she was labeled an outcast or freak. She had friends like Nicole, Anita, some officers and some clients, but they knew what her job was beforehand. People like Philip—human— usually never wanted to speak to her again afterwards.

Honor, loyalty and self-respect were her backbone of accepting who she was and she would never doubt it… even if it meant losing friends.

Philip witness Michelle's hesitation, maybe a bit fearful, before she written back.

I've risen' them from their graves before. 

You're kidding! Amazement clearly in his eyes.

I work at "Livin' Well".

Philip heard rumors of that place, they was as threatening and dark as the rumors for Anita Blake, "The Executioner"; except they defend vampires and werewolves, most of them. All in all, he was impressed.

Cool. What else do you do there?

Michelle wanted to stare at Philip like he grown a second head and sigh in relief at the same time but settled for content smile, feeling a swelling in her chest that he was able to look past that dark role that was her lifestyle.

Raise the dead, defend vampires and Weres from an unjust legal department, and paper work. A lot of paper work.

So I can't pay you to do my homework? Philip played.

Do your own homework, you slacker. Mr. I-Come-During-The-Quarter-Of-The-Semester. Michelle played back with a smirk.

Phillip chuckled, Hey, I just got here. Or you could be my tutor.

Another fantasy shot through Philip's mind. One where it involved Michelle in a sexy teacher's get-up.

_Bare, smooth, creamy legs in black high heels and a short dark green pencil-skirt that rounded her hips and ass._

_A white button blouse that didn't cover the seductive form of a red lacy bra underneath and was too small to contain her lushes breasts from popping the buttons off. _

_Her face would be set in a firm teacher's scorn…_

_Soft petal lips painted fiery red and swollen from their previous tongue-locks…_

_Her curling bountiful hair placed in a messy bun with rebellious brown locks falling here and there…_

_Cheeks red in her cute blush…_

_And smoky-shaded eyes behind sharp glasses that would betray her arousal, the deep chocolate irises glazing over in heated want. _**God, did he want her now. **

Michelle saw spark of lust in his eyes, again, while he smiled innocently at her. Why do I get the feeling there's an innuendo to your meaning of tutor?

A lecherous grin replaced his innocent facade. Because there is.

Lost on how to respond, Michelle just stared at his words but wasn't really looking at them. Michelle's own fantasy was playing out like an enticing porno.

_He was sitting in a school chair emanating a bad student persona, his right arm draped behind him over the back rest and slouched in his seat that his butt was laying at the end and legs spread wide. _

_His hair was tousled around like it never met a comb before… _

_His brows and eyes set solely on her and promising hot passions…_

_He still had that sexy, melt-in-your-mouth libido smile which was **very inviting**…_

_Philip's strong body was just leather._

_His black leather jacket hung off his left strong shoulder and bicep, the right arm disappearing behind the chair. The jacket was left open to tease with smooth, powerful flesh that was his torso…_

_Lean and muscular…dark areoles at attention…one muscle bugling after another down his abdomen…_

Michelle wanted to gasp out loud as her mind played the meanest and crude trick.

_Instead of brown wiry hair making an erotic promising path past his bellybutton and into tight black leather pants that coiled around lean muscles in his legs and hips._

_She was ensnared of witnessing Philip's large…thick…erect cock jut out of its leather cage, reaching towards his stomach as the crown wept for attention which it received from Philip's large hand...pumping up and down. _

Michelle's eyes widen, the image quickly disappearing as it came, feeling the heat rising in her face and in her core before finally looking at Philip. A white flash of instant desire shot through them as their eyes search into the others.

When Philip smiled it was the same one from before, _inviting and waiting on her to respond._

Unfortunately for him, the bell had rung which neither could believe how time flied in their short meeting of each other.

Michelle took it as an answered prayer and hurried out of the room and blended in with the rest of the college's students, heading towards the parking lot to find Nick's truck.

The appointment for Guilty Pleasures had been made and she did not want to be late. A horned honked, causing Michelle to spot Nick's truck parked along the sidewalk with her waving her hand out the window like an idiot.

She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder before she could leave in that direction.

Turning around and seeing an out of breath Philip caused Michelle to be slightly guilty for running out like that.

Glad he caught up with, even in his painful aroused state, Philip handed her a piece of paper, "Here, call me sometime." He then sweetly kissed her cheek and ran off to find his ride, feeling he had a small kick in his step and a longing in his heart. He couldn't wait to hear from her or see her, again.

Michelle wasn't sure how she got into Nick's truck till they were back on the road and Nicole asked her a question.

"Who was that John Travolta look-alike?" She asked with a teasing smile.

Not thinking twice about it, she answered breathily, "Philip."

That's when the swarm of questions came flying out of Nicole's mouth, asking how old Philip was and if she want to tangle in the sheets with him. Thank God, they had finally reached Guilty Pleasures; Michelle's didn't think she could take anymore of Nick's prying questions...let alone her raunchy ones.

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><p><strong>So that was the revision of chapter 3. Hope you enjoyed Philip having more of an opinion and the boost of romance. Please review and free to ask questions.<strong>

**Next, Nicole and Michelle enter Guilty Pleasures, who will they meet? DUN-DUN-DUN!**


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